


I Dream of Freedom

by Jamie_Aizen



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Dark prompt, F/M, Genie!Pitch, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Magic has rules, Multi, North and Jack are Good Bros, The other Guardians need to get their shit together, Warning: Bondage, Warning: Different Kinks, Warning: Dubcon (mindcontrol), Warning: OOC Pitch, warning: slavery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-16
Updated: 2017-11-25
Packaged: 2019-02-03 03:21:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12739989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jamie_Aizen/pseuds/Jamie_Aizen
Summary: The Guardians never saw Pitch Black again after his defeat at the end of the Dark Ages. Most of the group was not concern about the missing shade as they believe they were better off without the Nightmare King and the lack of sightings meant that the other lost belief and vanished.Imagine their surprise when they discover a silver ring in the hands of Jamie Bennet which reveal a submissive and wish granting Pitch Black....





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is another dark story. I don't know why; I'm just in a really dark mood. Not bad but I just want to write a really, really, really dark fanfic. 
> 
>  
> 
> And Pitch is the one I got to torture....
> 
> Like always....
> 
> (Like I said this is a dark story. Not your cup of tea, please don't read and then comment about how this is wrong. I don't want flames about the content. If your underage, get away from here. If you don't like reading stories about non-con/dub-con, get away from here.)

**Prologue**

  
  


It felt like an eternity since he was brought out from the light and into the cool darkness of the chambers.

 

Of course he was being dragged there but at the very least he could have a minute of rest. 

 

_ From the burning lights. _

_ The whips. _

_ From the violations. _

 

He shivered, trying to not bring the memories of his torment back to his mind. He instead brought his focus to the cooling darkness of the stone halls.

 

Suddenly the movement stop and he felt his nude body drop onto the ground. His face smacked against the cold floor and he just laid there, trying to control his breathing. 

 

He heard footsteps come towards him as he slowly lifted his face up, pale and sweaty.

 

The black boots stopped in front of him and the owner knelt down. Cold hands grabbed his chin roughly and wrenched it high, causing his eclipsed orbs to stare into amused silver eyes..

 

“Pitch Black,” came the harsh voice, “why do you do this to yourself? Why not give in?”   
  
“It.. it will be a cold day in hell before I bow to a damn mortal,” growled the trapped Nightmare King. He snapped his teeth at the man’s hand to make himself threatening.

 

The man chuckled as he pet the shade’s hair.

 

“Oh, I’m so happy you fell in my trap. A powerful spirit such as yourself, under my thrall.” The human shuddered in pleasure as he tightened his grip. “You are so fierce and commanding; the kind of spirit I have desired for so long.” He leaned down and licked the side of Pitch’s face causing the spirit to rear back in disgust.

 

“You cannot enslave the King of Fear!! No one can!!”

 

The man stood up, laughing at the weak Nightmare King’s proclamation and nodded at the two figures in the shadows behind Pitch. The two grunted and disappeared behind a door.

 

“No, you’ll be mine,” stated the man as he turned. He waved his hand and flames erupted from the nearby torches causing the room to flare in blooming light. Pitch shielded his eyes as he struggled to get up on his knees. He grit his teeth in pain as he surveyed his surroundings.

The room had one throne but had many runes and sigils decorated on the wall. Some he recognized as he saw several spirits that he manage to spy have the same markings on their skin.

 

The man took a seat on the throne and offer Pitch a sinister grin. “You are the strongest spirit I have ever captured since I started my work. Most I have encountered were… insignificant if you could call them that.” He shrugged as he beckon someone in the darkness to come forward and a small female wraith walked towards him carrying a tray that had objects covered into a cloth.

 

Pitch notice that the being’s eyes were blank, a dull blue with barely any indication of emotions in her facial expression.

 

“Of course having all these spirits, while nice, are not doing much for my livelihood. So I decided to make a profit from them.” He removed the cloth and presented a golden arabic oil lamp. Jewels were encrusted into the surface and it looked to be old and dingy; yet Pitch did sense some form of magic inside.

 

“Did you know, you can create genies if you discover the right spell and manage to make a spirit submit, you can create your own wish granting genie,” the man exclaimed proudly as he held the object. He then frowned.

 

“Of course, the genie will only grant you three wishes and despite making the spirit compliant, there is still defiance inside and they will try to trick you into freeing them.” He bared his teeth. “I had 2 spirits try that on me and I had to dispose of them. Very sad but it help with my experiments.”

 

The man set the lamp back on the tray and sent the wraith back to the shadows. “So I had to sit and tweak the spell a bit. First of all, no more 3 wishes limit,” he explained with a glee. “Nothing spoils your fun than having to wish carefully for what you want. Second, the spirits are more subdued. You can’t even begin to understand the annoyance of dealing with unruly spirits.” He then paused to look at a still growling Pitch.

 

“Or maybe you can Nightmare King…”

 

Pitch sneered at the man, vowing to kill the human for this transgression. But deep down he was a little frighten. 

 

“Anyway, once I discovered what I could achieve I decided I could profit off this.” He clapped his hands together. “Imagine it; to achieve whatever you desire with just a run and a wish. No more praying to false gods or running after pious clergymen; no more selling souls or firstborns to demonic forces.” He rubbed his right fingers together. “Instead, for the right amount of coin, they can make all their dreams come true.”

 

The man’s lips turned into a frown at that moment. “Of course, the continued use of weak spirits such as the ones I have captured before would cause their cores to burn out and for them to pass away.” He then smiled and shrugged his shoulders. “Oh well, hopefully the buyers would manage to get what they needed and I’ll be long gone before they claim they have been ripped off.”

 

The Nightmare King’s eyes widened. “You’re insane.” He tried to get off his knees but found himself still lacking strength. “You’re insane and a damn monster!!”

 

The man gave a roaring laugh. “Oh there’s that spark I do so love, Pitch! 

 

“So that is your plan; beating me until I submit and then enslaving me to your will?”

 

The man chuckled.

 

“Of course not,” he chided. “You have shown that normal techniques won’t work with you. You’re a proud and powerful creature; a rare one in a million to end up in my hands.” The man shook his head. “No, you’re a gift to me- for when I finally break you, when I have made you mine, it will show the world how great a sorcerer I have finally become!”

 

Pitch shook his head in disbelief, eyes wide in horror. “I won’t become yours!! I’m a powerful spirit! YOU CAN’T BREAK ME!!!”

 

The Nightmare King once again try to move but fell back to the ground, gritting his teeth as his body wrought with pain. His captor laughed as the door behind him open, revealing two hulking wraiths. On went to Pitch and grabbed him by his hair as the other went to his master and presented familiar.

 

“And see, it's that defiance that made me want to keep you,” the man said as he stood up. “If you had broke easily, it would be boring and you would be another merchandise I would be selling.” He offered Pitch a sinister grin. “Such attitude should be rewarded.”

 

He then took the object from the waiting minion and began to walk back to Pitch. “I believe this belongs to you…”

 

Pitch looked up to see his golden collar. They had taken it from around his neck when he was first captured and he had secretly mourned the lost of his treasure.

 

Looking at it now, he knew something was different about the collar.

 

“Come now, don’t you want your little trinket back?”

 

Pitch reared away from the offending jewelry. However the beastly wraith held tight to him, trying to put the shade into a kneeling position.

 

“What have you done to it?!” 

 

The evil mortal chuckled. “I just added some… special runes to the one’s already there. Did you know you had a protection spell encased in the surface?” He gave an ugly grin.  “Someone must have really cared for you,” he mock as he crept closer.

 

Pitch tried to wrench his body away but the minion held fast. “NO DON’T! LEAVE ME ALONE!! STAY AWAY!!”

 

“Come now, Pitch. It will make everything so much easier.” The man unclipped the lock and began to drape it around Pitch’s neck. “Just relax….”

 

*

In a faraway cavern, stood a golden globe. Its lights would flicker in and out on each metal continent, but it continued to rotate as its designer command it to.

 

Suddenly a high pitch scream erupted throughout the area causing rocks to crumble and fall from the ceiling. The sound continued on, ruining the silence that was once there. Finally as it began to fade away the globe stopped turning, its lights extinguishing for the final time and then the metal shattered into a thousand pieces.

 

~End Chapter~


	2. Chapter One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A silver ring is gaining attention for all the wrong reasons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy shit, a quick update 0.0
> 
> Hopefully this becomes a habit!!! (laughs themselves silly when they realize that they have just jinx themselves and it will be another 1000 years before the next update)

**Chapter One**

 

* * *

_**England** _

* * *

 

“...And the last item we have on the list, a silver ring dating back to around 1500 AD. I believe that was when the Dark Ages ended.”

 

Curator Martin Bennett shifted in his seat, looking bored but interested in the trinket the auctioneer was showcasing.

 

“-this inscribe in anglo saxon: **_Submission and Power Are One_ **. Now it was believed to belong to powerful noble during the early 1500’s and had been passed down from generation to generation. There also have been tales of a bloody history based on this artifact.” The elderly gentleman gave a grin. “I sure many of you historians would appreciate such trinket in your office.”

 

The curator rolled his eyes. The man was pushing too hard. Sure history lovers would jump at obtaining such a ring if the history behind it was true. But the ring itself looked well maintained, even shiney. For a five hundred century artifact, it looked very well kept.

 

Looking around, he could see his fellow patrons also making that conclusion.

 

Still, Martin didn’t mind adding new jewelry to his museum. If anything, he could place the ring in the Middle Ages exhibit and call it a night.

 

As the auctioneer started the bid, the curator lifted up his sign.

 

* * *

**~2 weeks later~**

_**Nicholas St. North's Workshop** _

* * *

 

Jack Frost flew into Nicholas St. North’s workshop, bringing snow and wind. The elves didn’t mind being swept away in a fury as they love chaos. The Yetis- not so much.

 

“Jack,” came a happy bellow. The winter sprite looked up to see his fellow Guardian waved from above. “This is no special occassion but I’m glad you’re here!!”

 

Jack gave a laugh. “Hey North, just swinging by checking on things. Maybe steal a cookie or two.”

 

The Guardian of Wonder gave a great laugh as he hopped over the bannister, landing on the floor below, making the workshop quake. As the Yetis scramble to save their work, North grabbed the youngest member and gave a him a crushing hug.

 

“N-North,” squeaked Jack who was finally released when the other notice he was having trouble breathing.

 

“Apologies Jack,” North said bashfully. “Sometimes I don’t know my own strength.”

 

Jack waved his hand (after he’d finished having a coughing fit) and gather his staff that he dropped.

 

“Not that I don’t mind, but what brings you here?”

 

Jack shrugged. “I was in the neighbourhood, decided to stop by and check on things. I’m due to visit Jamie in an hour so I have a bit of time to kill.”

 

North nodded as he stared at their youngest and newest Guardian with pride. It had been a long and difficult road; and while the relationship with Jack is still a bit rocky, North was proud at steps each of them took to bring Jack into the fold.

 

He was actually surprised that he gravitated to him rather than Sandy. North figured that the young spirit would stay close to the Guardian of Dreams as he had spent time with him before Jack became an official Guardian.

 

But the winter sprite started hanging around the workshop, watching the Yetis work and sometimes playing pranks on the elves. But he would also talk to North when the burly man was in his office. Sometimes it was just whimsical things but other times the conversation got deeper.

 

North told a bit about his past; about becoming the infamous Bandit King  before becoming an apprentice to a powerful magician. About Manny choosing him to become a Guardian and meeting Bunny, Tooth and Sandy.

 

Jack enjoyed the many tales North spoke from the heart- especially when it came to the times he helped others

 

“I am glad you visited today Jack,” said North. “Will be gone for awhile, no more than 2 days.”

 

The Guardian of Fun gave North a confused look. “Is it dangerous,” he asked.

 

North gave a great laugh which cause his belly to shake widely. “Nyet, just a bit of business I handle every year. No danger at all!”

 

Jack nodded though he looked worry. North saw his expression and gave the teen an easy smile.

 

“I promise Jack, it is nothing serious. But when I come back, you can help with the new toys I’m thinking of making.”

 

A smile spread across the winter sprite’s face as he agreed. Both Guardians had discovered earlier in the beginning that Jack had a creative talent of carving ice and wood. While not as experience as North, the sculptures he crafted were marvelous.

North clapped a hand on his back as he gave another laugh as he led the other out of the room. They dropped into idle conversation while North prep for his short trip. Jack did mention that he was planning on visiting Jamie and his sister later for a bit before heading over to the other side of the world for an early snow day.

 

“But it is Summer,” North commented.

 

The Fun Guardian just gave a cheeky grin.

 

* * *

_**The Bennett Household** _

* * *

 

 

The young boy listened from behind the door as his uncle was talking to his mother in hush whispers.

 

Jamie Bennett barely remembered his father’s younger brother on the account of him not being allowed around the family. His uncle was….different, according to his dad. Not normal.

 

Of course the things Jamie did remember about Martin was that he was into history and mythology. Heck, the Mythology Around the World encyclopedia was the first gift Jamie remembered receiving from the man.

 

Of course his father took it away, saying that his son didn’t need whimsical and fairy tales in his head when he should be focusing on what the real world had to offer.

 

His father later that day took him aside and explained that his uncle was… well not right in the head. That he lived in his fantasy world and had to get help. Of course he never did and his father banned his own brother from seeing the family.

 

Sophie was a baby when they last saw their uncle so she didn’t remember him. He did however and he remember asking his mother why his dad was so afraid of the fairy tales.

 

“Your father had a hard life and had to face the harsh reality. He never really had a chance to be a kid. Your uncle, he cope by escaping to a fantasy world and I guess the poor man never had a chance to escape.” She then patted him on the head and later gave him back the mythology book his father took away.

 

Jamie returned his attention back to the conversation happening in the living room.

 

“Martin, when you ask to come over, I thought you wanted to see me and the kids. Not show me this farce-”

 

“It’s not a farce. What I have here- it can change everything!”

 

His mother sighed as she placed her fingers on her temple. Jamie knew that was a sign of his mother getting frustrated.

 

“Martin,you’re telling me that after 2 years of not hearing from you- no visits, no letters, no even a fucking phone call- you’re coming to tell me that you found a genie? A magic genie?”

 

His uncle nodded as sweat poured from under his blond string hair. He pushed his clammy hand into right suit coat pocket and pulled out a silver ring.

 

Instantly, Jamie shivered. He felt…. He didn’t know what he felt. There was wave of sadness and fear coming from the ring itself. It was polished well and he could tell something was inscribed on the inside of the metal.

 

His mother was not impressed as she pushed her uncle’s hand away.

 

“Martin, you have to leave- you’re not well.”

 

“But, you have to understand! You have to see,” he shouted as he tried to push the jewelry into her hands.

 

She finally had enough and slapped it out of his hand.

 

**“NO YOU LISTEN!! FOR TWO YEARS I DIDN’T HEAR A PEEP FROM YOU! I DIDN’T KNOW IF YOU WERE ALIVE OR DEAD! AND THEN WHEN YOU COME BACK, YOU DON’T ASK HOW I’M DOING OR HOW THE KIDS ARE DEALING WITH THEIR FATHER’S DEATH- YOU JUST BUM RUSH INTO SOME FANTASY STORY OF A FUCKING GENIE!!”**

 

She took a deep breath and tried to calm down.

 

“My husband, your brother, is dead. **Dead!** I know you two had a rocky relationship and the last time you saw each other it ended badly, but you’re family. Family that didn’t stay to talk to us after the funeral, that didn’t help out.” She licked her lips as she continued. “I gave you the benefit of the doubt you know. I thought, maybe he needs time. To come to terms. To find himself. So I didn’t bother you. But you never called, no one did. They left us to defend ourselves and I barely manage to make ends meet. It would have been nice to get some encouraging words or even a visit….”

 

Jamie winced at the mention of his dead father. Some days he still wakes up, expecting his father to come into his room and throw him in the air like he usually did in the mornings, trying to get some energy into his sleepy bones. His mother continued to remind him that his father did miss him and that he was in peace now. It didn’t make things better for awhile.

It was one of the reasons why he was grateful for meeting Jack Frost and the rest of the Guardians. It reminded him that he wasn’t alone anymore. Sure he had his mother and sister, and his new friends of Burgess; but there was something different about spending time with Jack that made it seem special.

 

“Martin, I think you should leave and don’t come back until you can get help….”

 

His uncle’s fist clenched and he spun around, storming towards the front door. His mother stood firm until the door slammed shut, which allowed her to slump down and collapse into the armchair.

 

“Mom?”

 

Jamie had pushed the hallway door open to step inside the living room and walked over to his mother.

 

She sighed again but brought her attention to her oldest.

 

“How much did you hear?”

 

Jamie shrugged. “Most of it…”

 

She nodded before looking at the front door again. “Jamie, I just want you know that….” She huffed and took a deep breath as if trying to figure out what she wanted to say.

 

“We’re not going to help him, are we?”

 

“We help those that want our help Jamie. And while he’s family, my focus is on raising and taking care of you and your sister.” She reached up to caress his brown hair. “I hate that it came down to this but maybe your father was right about your uncle. Or maybe he descended into madness after his brother’s death. I don’t know. But I don’t have the strength nor energy to take care of him and my children.”

 

Jamie slowly nodded, knowing this was one of the few times his mother would unload on him like this. It was rare when she spoke to him like an adult, believing that he should enjoy his childhood. He did appreciate it sometimes as it made him feel helpful.

 

His mother sighed again as she stood up. “Sophie and I are heading towards the store to get things for dinner. You want to come with?”

 

Her son shook his head. “Naw, I was about to head outside for a bit and play.”

 

She agreed with his plan and reminded him about taking his house key and cellphone just in case.

 

“If you see your uncle, be polite but be cautious. Do not let him back into the house and if you need to, call the police and go to the neighbours.”

 

Jamie’s eyes widen at the requests.

 

“I don’t know how deep your uncle has gotten but I rather play it safe than to find out he hurt you unintentionally.”

 

The young boy nodded as she leaned over and kissed his forehead, causing him to fuss. She laughed leaving the leaving room to head up the stairs.

 

Jamie allowed his smile drop as he turned his head back to look at the the couch. He dropped to his knees and stretched his hand underneath, sweeping out dust bunnies, coins and hair ties that belonged to his little sister. Suddenly his fingers hit metal and he quickly clasped his hand around the ring. Standing up quickly, he held his hand up to gaze at the ring.

 

30 minutes later Jamie was standing next the Burgess Lake, still looking at the jewelry in his hand.

 

He never thought the stories could be true. Granted the only ones he ever heard of was from the Disney and Chinese version which had genies in lamps and rings but those were clearly work of fiction (from his knowledge).

 

He was tempted to give it to his mother but decided against it. Despite it looking like a harmless ring, he still couldn’t help but feel the negative emotions tied to the object.

 

And something was compelling him to wear it, to rub it and tell his most deepest wish.

 

Jamie finally stopped to stare hard at the ring.

 

_Was this how everyone else felt when they held Sauron’s One Ring of Power?_

 

_Did they feel powerful?_

 

He tilted his head as he felt an eerie calm come over him.

 

If what his uncle said was true then he could wish for anything. For his mom to get a better job, for them to getter a better life- even for his dad to come back….

 

He stretched out his ring finger and slowly began to slip the jewelry onto it.

 

“Hey Jamie!!”

 

Said boy yelped and quickly wrench the ring off his finger and toss it on the ground.

 

“Woah,” came the voice of Jack Frost and the spirit flopped from the branches onto the ground. “Didn’t mean to startle you bud.”

 

Jamie looked up, realizing that he fell on the ground also. He was heaving , trying to control his breath and stop the panic from rising up.

 

“Jamie, are you okay?”

 

Jack knelt down next to him and place his hand on the boy’s shoulder. That snapped the believer out of his stupor and he looked up at his friend. His shoulder began to shake when he realized how close he was to fall into the same madness of the ring.

 

“Jack, you have to help me.”

 

The winter sprite’s eyes widen as Jamie began to speak.

 

* * *

_**England** _

* * *

 

 

Staring at the stack of money in front of him didn’t erase the guilt that came from it. Grabbing the glass of bourbon, Derrick drown it down as he continued to stare.

 

_This won’t bring them back. But I can start a new life. A new name with a new background._

 

Granted Derrick knew that the cash in front of him was nothing more than blood money, but in his mind he was justified.

 

It had only been 3 weeks since the funeral and he was still haunted by the screams. His wife and child yelling for help only to be silence forever. His father’s cries as he watched his oldest son shot bullets into his own mother before turning the shotgun onto him.

 

Derrick looked back at the money, frowning and secretly damning his brother to hell. He switched his focus to the picture next to it. He Leaning from the back of his armchair and grabbed the still portrait and stared at the source of his pain.

 

The ring had been in his family for decades, starting from his great-great grandfather. He claimed it was a good luck charm as he survived the Great War and afterwards founded his fortune. He was able to propose to his fiance and they were successful in raising their children. The ring had been a family secret and of great responsibility, according to his father. And it would be given to the heir of the family to take care of and use appropriately.

 

Derrick believed that his father would hand such responsibility to his eldest brother Jacob. He was surprised when he was charged with such duty.

 

Of course the oldest did not like being slighted. Somehow Jacob found out about the switch and he confronted their father about it. After harsh words and hurt feelings, his brother stormed out of the manor.

 

Only to return with a heart full of hatred and a full gauge shotgun.

 

He murdered every family member at the manor that day, except him when the police arrived. Their father unfortunately hid the ring from Jacob and only the executor of the will knew the location. Realizing what he had done, Derrick watched his brother pulled out a pistol and shot himself in the head.

 

It was a mass funeral with people coming out offering him pity and condolences.

 

He didn’t want that.

 

He wanted his family back.

 

Derrick tossed the photo back on the table and reached for the decanter. He didn’t understand what was so great about a piece of metal. Sure his father claimed it was a good luck charm but there was nothing special about it.

 

**_“Ah a 1792 bourbon! Don’t mind if I do…”_ **

 

The man shot up from his chair and turn only to freeze in his step.

 

“No no no, “ came the voice. “Don’t get up, I will help myself.”

 

Derrick then found his body moving on its own. He sat back in the chair and his hands clasped the armrest. He was able to move his eyes when he spotted the figure coming into his peripheral vision.

 

The man was tall- very tall; about a good 7 feet in height. He was well built, not too skinny and muscles that fit right into the black suit with the long wool coat. He had a handsome face, with grey orbs that held amusement in them.

 

He walked up to the table and took the decanter and began to pour himself a glass.”You know, you were a hard man to find, Mr. Elliot.” He took a sip as two figures appeared behind the doorway. “After that tragedy, you all but disappeared from society. No one knew where you staying. Luckily a few kind words about being a friend of the family and your lawyer gave me your address.”

 

Derrick stare up at the man as he nodded his head at his associates who dress in black trench coats and black hats that cover their faces. They were muscular and Derrick thought maybe looking on the dumb side. Though he change his mind as they began to tear apart the room, obviously looking for something  

 

The newcomer snapped his finger in Derrick’s face grabbing his attention again.

 

“Don’t mind my associates. They’re just looking for something that belongs to me.”

 

Derrick felt the tension leave his jaw, so he open his mouth. “Who are you people? What do you want?”

 

The man gave him a friendly grin. “Me? I’m just a man looking to reclaim one of his treasures.” He took another sip only to freeze at the sight of the photo next to the stack of cash. He tilted his head as he grabbed the polaroid off the table.

 

“In fact this is the object I’ve been looking for.” He dropped the photo onto the floor only to seize Derrick’s hand. He adopted a confuse look as he inspected the fingers and placed the drink on table. “You’re not wearing it,” he muttered.

 

Derrick shook his head slowly. “I sold it…”

 

The man tilted his head as he knelt down next to the man. “Why?”

 

Derrick shivered in fury as he stared into the man’s eyes. “That ring is nothing back bad luck on my family-”

 

“Because you didn’t know how to use it correctly.” He stood up suddenly and held his hands out. “No one can understand the full magnitude of the ring’s power.” He looked back at Derrick with a smirk.

 

“I’m guessing your father told you it was a good luck charm, helped the family out of some tough times, made sure all his children was healthy, well- provided for.”

 

Derrick licked his lips as he slowly nodded.

 

His guest smiled, showing his teeth. “You my friend, your family has played host to a genie for all these years.”

 

“A… a genie-”

 

“Yes a genie. A wish granting spirit that I had captured and trained in my younger years. And he didn’t just grant 3 wishes but instead a multitude.”

Derrick looked at the man as if he was insane.

 

“Oh don’t give me that look. Did you not found it odd that nothing bad really happen to you as you had grow up? Your family was living in comfort and had more money to spend. No one got sick or died of unfortunate accidents. Never losing business deals or dealing with the recessions.”

 

Derrick swallowed as he listened to the man’s delusions. “My great great grandfather worked hard for his money.”

 

“Yes, if you called rubbing my ring and asking my genie anything he wanted hard work. If anything, I should be asking back pay for your family’s usage. But I’m being a fair man and just asking where you sold my ring at.”

 

Derrick bit his lips. “If I tell you, you’ll leave me alone, right?”

 

The man gave a cheeky grin and bowed. “You have my word.”

 

Derrick swallowed again and began speaking. “Two weeks ago, I sold it to an auctioneer. He gave me all that,” he explained nodding to the money pile, “in exchange for your ring.”

 

The man nodded as he beckoned Derrick to continue. He continued talking, telling the tall man about the address and who was the auctioneer.

 

The man nodded. “Thank you very much,” he said as he waved his hand.

 

Derrick found himself free from his chair but wisely decided not to move lest he drew the deranged man’s wrath.

 

His guest snapped his fingers and in an unknown language, barked orders at his two henchmen. They dropped the boxes and papers onto the ground and lumbered away from the area.

 

The man began to walk away when he stopped and spied a portrait on the fireplace banister. In two steps, the man came to a halt as he picked up the photo.

 

“Is this them?”

 

Derrick licked his lips before standing up. He slowly walked over to the man and looked over his shoulder to see the last photo he had taken with his family.

 

His wife and son were sitting on the couch with his mother while his father, brother and himself stood behind the furniture.

 

“Ye-yes,” he answered. “We were celebrating my mother’s 68th birthday. She wanted to take a photo together, to commemorate this moment.” He took the portrait from the man’s hand. “It's like...she knew this would be the last time we would be a family…”

 

Derrick continued staring down at the people, his finger tracing their faces, committing them to memory.

 

He didn't notice the man leaving his side, nor did he notice hands on both of his shoulder and lips pressed close to his ears.

 

**_“You miss them don’t you? Your wife and child? You blame yourself. You saw the gun, you knew you were danger and instead of saving them, you dropped to the floor like a coward.”_ **

 

Derrick began to slowly heave as fresh tears began to leave his eyes.

 

_**“You can’t continue living like this. You want to end it all. To suffer. Why should you live when they died for the sins of a father?”** _

 

The words continued to flow into Derrick’s mind until finally, he made his decision.

 

The man pulled away and after grabbing the stack of cash, left the room. He looked at the two burly associates standing off to the side next to the stairwell.

 

“Where to next, boss?”

 

The one next to the speaker slammed their fist on his shoulder. “He’ll tell us where and when to go! Don’t be impatient!”

 

The other snorted. “I’m ready to bust heads,” he grumbled as he smacked his fist into his hand.

 

“And you will,” said their leader. “But not right now.” He looked at the address he had written down. “We have another venue to visit befor I call it a day. Hopefully, this won’t be a wild goose chase.”

 

The first minion that spoke took his hat off revealing long silver hair, cropped black dog ears and white mask with red markings  decorated on the surface.

 

“How do we know he’s not lying and doing just that?”

The man chuckled as he waved his hand. An ebony cane appeared out of thin air, the golden orb on its end flashing against the light. “He’s too broken to lie. Losing his wife and child to someone who he was close to shattered whatever will he had left.” He finger the cane head as he stared into it. “Which proves the suspicion I have pondered for awhile. It seems the longer you have the ring and continue making wishes, the greater the tragedy will befall on you and those who have benefit from your wishes.”

 

The second minion stepped forward. “Why is that master?”

 

The man closed his eyes, remembering every spell and rune he cast on the ring and the spirit himself. He began to wonder if way his jewelry was handled might cause an unforeseen chain reaction.

 

_‘Or it could be the spirit itself. Maybe marks I created started fading away and he was regaining bits of his personality back?’_

 

Opening his eyes, he huffed. “So many unknowns. But I won’t be sure until I have my ring back on my finger.” He looked down at his fists, clenching and unclenching in anticipation. “He calls to me, begging for me to take him back.”

 

“Yes master. We understand….”

 

The man frowned and snapped his head at the two. “No you don’t. You fools can never understand.” His face then turn into a neutral expression. “But I forgive you for trying to make me feel better.” He turned and clenched his hand around his cane. “Now come. It's time to pay this lovely caretaker a visit.”

 

“Uh,” began the masked wearing minion, “shouldn’t we do something about this guy though? What if he calls the authorities?”

 

Their master stood for second with his head tilted sideways before he began to walk down the steps.

 

“There is no need…”

 

A gunshot rang from behind the door, follow by the sound of a body dropping.

 

“Mr. Elliot has taken care of that himself…”

 

* * *

_**Nicholas St. North's Workshop** _

* * *

 

 

Jack was sitting on the couch staring at the ring on the table as if it was offending him. He felt a heavy hand on his back causing him to look up.

 

One of the yetis presented him a glass of milk with a plate of cookies, obviously sensing his anxiety. Jack thanked them and took a piece, chewing on it before he returned his gaze back to the item on his mind.

 

Jamie wanted this ring taken away from his family before it could cause harm to them. He mentioned that he felt compelled to make a wish and sense it bring ill will if he did such a thing. The boy figured that it would be the right thing to get rid of it before he gave into temptation.

 

Which led the Guardian of Fun at a dilemma.

 

While his first guess was to take it to North, he quickly discovered that the man would be out for the next two days. He was tempted to take it to the other Guardians but he didn’t know where Sandy lived, nor was he willing to bother Toothiana or Bunny.

 

Finishing his cooking and taking a sip of his milk, he went back staring at the ring. Taking a deep breath he picked it up and brought it to his face.

 

Other than the inscription inside the band, it looked like a dull ordinary ring. He couldn’t really sense what Jamie was describing now that he thought about it. Still he wanted to be cautious. North did speak to him a bit about magic and spells, telling the winter sprite that just because something looked innocent, doesn't mean it was.

 

Jack tilted his head when he notice a smudge on the surface of the band.

 

_‘It must have happen when Jamie had thrown it on the ground…’_

 

Grabbing a napkin from the plate, Jack began to wipe and scrub it, cleaning the ring. He didn’t see the harm in doing something like that.

 

Suddenly he felt the band began to warm up. Then it got red hot, causing Jack to yelp and drop it on the ground.

 

Smoke began to leave the ring, making it difficult to see it.

 

Jack cursed himself and grabbed his staff, jumping over the couch and preparing for a battle. He saw some of the Yeti’s using their tools for makeshift weapons as they waited for their opponent to show.

 

Finally the smoke began to clear and Jack turned his attention back to where the ring was, staff up and ready to make a frozen statue.

.

 

Suddenly a meow was heard and a  black cat appeared, licking its black paw before sitting on its behind. It fur was black, sleek to shine with a white patch over the left eye. The green orbs pierce through Jack’s soul as if it was judging him and it sent shivers down his spine.

 

But what was behind the animal sent even more shock through the witnesses.

 

There was a person standing behind the cat, stretching their arms and groaning as if he were in pain. Jack noticed instantly that their skin was gray or really pale and their figure was skinny, with little to no muscle on his body.

 

The newcomer was adorned with a long black skirt and a short crop halter top that still reveal too much skin. Yet they had a golden collar around their neck and a chain bracelet on their right wrist. They wore no shoes or socks, but Jack notice that their ankles also had chain bracelets around them. The finger and toe nails were painted black along with their guest’s lips. Their hair was flat, yet one side of their face was covered with long raven hair. The other side revealed pale golden orbs that stared out from pale sunken skin.

 

The person stopped stretching and their eye began to look around before freezing on Jack. The winter sprite tensed but quickly brought his staff back up as the newcomer began to walk up to him. The figure stopped in front of Jack before kneeling down in front of him and continue staring up into Jack’s face.

 

**_“What is it you desire my Master?”_ **

 

_**~End Chapter~** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to see the outfit that the genie is wearing, let me know and I'll link it in the next chapter. 
> 
> As for the unknown sorcerer, think of Matthew McConaughey's character in the movie The Dark Tower. I finally watched it last week and holy shit, the man sent chills up my spine.


	3. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack discovers more about the Spirit of the ring, North visits an old friend and a mortal craves for his Precious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually wanted this chapter done and posted before or on the day of Thanksgiving. But I got busy with work and then my relatives came in and I got distracted. Plus this isn't something you would type in front of your mother. I mean... she was overheated from being in the kitchen. Who knows what this would have done to her heart. 
> 
> So I manage to finish this and begin the next chapter. But don't expect a fast update. I have other fics that are need of updating and I would like to add new chapters to each one before New Years. Plus finally bought the Evil Within 2 and other horror games and I'm going to play the hell out of them!
> 
> However, I am enjoying the ideas that I am getting for this story and I love that people are enjoying this. I was kinda worry that maybe I'm going a bit too far but it pleases me that I have a great audience.
> 
> Also stay tune at the end for the link of Pitch's outfit. As a bonus, I also threw in the cat. (Sims 4 Cats & Dogs- BEST PACK EVER!!)

**Chapter Two:**

 

_“Tell me what you are, Pitch…”_

 

_“.... I am yours,  Master.”_

 

_“Good. Who do you serve?”_

 

_“Anyone who holds the ring on their finger.”_

 

_The man nodded, pleased. He reached down to cup the shade’s chin as knelt next to him. He pressed his lips onto Pitch’s forehead, inhaling the other’s smoky scent._

 

_“Which means you are mine,” he whispered as he allowed his fingertips to dance on the bruised arm of his genie. “For I will never give you away,” he hissed._

 

_The man continued to caress each skin, noticing the way Pitch kept his head down, eyes blank to any emotion. His lips for once not moving, instead parted a bit allowing air to flow between them._

 

_Submission at its finest._

 

_“You are so perfect, Pitch,” he said as he trailed more kisses down his cheek and then to his neck. A shudder erupted throughout the shade’s body, heat pooling in his lower regions._

 

_Finally the man ceased his touches and pulled away, but not before grabbing Pitch’s arm and yanking him up to his feet. The shade allowed himself to be dragged to a nearby table by his master, his face expressionless._

 

_They stopped and once again Pitch’s chin was once again in his master’s grip._

 

_“What do you see Pitch?”_

 

_Pale eclipsed orbs focused on the tray in front of them. On the surface sat several gleaming rings, each a different color and size. Yet they were dull in comparison to the silver one adorn on his master’s finger._

 

_The man reached and picked up a pale blue ring that held a silver stone fasten to the band._

 

_“This holds a sprite that I captured a while back. Beautiful red hair, fair skin…” The man continued to inspect the jewelry. “She had fire in her green eyes when I caught her. They’re dull now, not even worth looking at anymore. So I’m selling her off to someone else. Not worth my time.”_

 

_Pitch shuddered as he listen to the man casually demean the unknown sprite and spoke about selling her to humans. Would he do the same to him? Just give him away and allow the Nightmare King be forgotten?_

 

_The man place the ring back on the table, only to grab Pitch’s hair and reared it back, causing the other hiss (whether in pleasure or pain, he did not know)._

 

_“You see how easily it is to stuff someone of your character into one of those,” the sorcerer sneered. “To give you away, to send you to someone who won’t treat you right, who won’t care?”_

 

_The shade shivered in terror at the words._

 

_“But if you are a good little spirit, if you listen and obey every command; I will never part from you,” the man said calmly. He released Pitch’s hair and wrapped his arms around the shade’s torso._

 

_“I’m the only one who cares for you Pitch,” he whispered gently. “I took you when no one else would have you- gave you purpose again…”_

 

_A hand went up to Pitch’s mouth and began to trace the lips. “No one speaks of the Nightmare King anymore,” he continued.  “They believed you died after your defeat. No one mourns for you, no one remembers you. They have written you off as a bad dream….”_

 

_Trembles erupted through the shade’s body as he continued listening to the words of his Master. Soon tears began to leave his eyes and a sob came from deep his throat._

 

_“Shh,” calmed the man as he began to pet Pitch’s hair. “I will never leave you, my dear. You’re mine now- as long as you do as I say and obey my every command.”_

 

_The shade slowly nodded though he couldn’t help but look out the window towards the full moon, a silent plea on his lips. He received no answer instead a hand turning his head and forceful lips covering his._

 

* * *

  **Present day**

* * *

 

Jack sat across from the so call genie watching as the man pet the cat snuggling in his lap. Most of the yetis had left the area, although few lingered just in case the man did anything unpleasant to their resident sprite.

 

When Jack had recovered from the initial shock, he quickly told the man that nothing was needed to which the ‘genie’ nodded, gave a small bow at the waist  and took a seat on the floor. He did not say anything or move from then on; only when the cat stroll by and climbed into his lap that their guest came alive.

 

The Guardian chewed his bottom lip as he tried to figure out what to say to the man. He wished North was here or hell, any of the other Guardians. There was a good chance that they would know how to handle a situation like this.

 

“Is there something on your mind, Master?”

 

Jack looked up to see the genie on all fours in front of him, face right in his. He yelped and scoot back quickly, putting a few feet of distance between them.

 

“Woah, have you ever heard of boundaries?!”

 

The man reared back, an expression of hurt and worry on his face. “Forgive me Master,” he said quickly. “I have made you uncomfortable and deserve whatever punishment you will bestow on me.”

 

Jack’s eyes widen as he froze. “Wait, what?” He stood up and rushed at Pitch only to stop as the figure flinched. “No, I’m… I’m not going to hurt you,” the winter sprite said softly. He knelt next to the man and place his hand on his shoulder.

 

The genie blinked but kept his head down. “But I deserve whatever punishment you give me.”

 

Jack winced as he heard the tone in the man’s voice. “Look, I… I’m no one’s master and I won’t treat you like that…”

 

His guest looked up confused. “But… you wear the ring. I must grant any wish of whoever possesses the ring…”

 

Jack looked at fingers and sighed. Sometime when he sat across from the genie, he had picked up the ring and placed it on his finger. Now that he thought about it, he didn’t know why he did such a thing.

 

“Look, even if I am your Master, I wouldn't treat you like that- not just because you’re scared? I'm not a monster…”

 

The genie slowly nodded though he still looked confused. Jack decided that maybe North would be better at this.

 

Standing he offered the man his hand. “Let's start over,” Jack began. “My name is Jack Frost. What is your name?”

 

The genie tilted his head and blinked again. “It's whatever you want it to be, Master.”

 

Jack’s smile dropped and a groan erupted from his throat. “You don't have a real name?!!”

 

The genie looked at his feet in shame. “Well… I do but I think remember some of my Masters didn't like and ordered I change it. I think the last one I had was Jude.”

 

The winter sprite began rubbing his temples as his frustration mounted. “Do you remember your true name?”

 

“Oh, yes Master. But don't you want me to use the name that you will give me?”

 

Jack shook his head. “No, I want-” He stopped and sighed in frustration, tugging his hair a bit.

 

He looked up at the man who was standing there, no emotion on his face.

 

“If I wish to know your true name; like actually made a wish; would that count as one for my three?”

 

The man shook his head. “No Master. You can have as many wishes as you want.”

 

“But I thought genies only give out three? And they usually use the third wish to trick their Masters into freeing them?”

 

Jack’s guest tilted his head, confused. “You are a strange Master,” he commented. “I can grant as many wishes as you deem.”

 

The winter sprite blinked. “That’s convenient,” he muttered rubbing his hair. “Then I wish for you to tell me your true name.”

 

Pitch blinked and his eye turned to a deep silver hue. No emotion was present on the genie’s face and it scared Jack for a moment.

 

“As you wish my Master.”

 

Blinking once again, his orbs were back to normal he spoke. “My true name,” he said, “ is Pitch Black.”

 

* * *

**Somewhere in Russia**

* * *

 

***THWACK***

***THWACK***

***THWACK***

 

North pulled away as he watched a tall birch tree finally gave way and crash to the ground. He set the ax next to the stump before pulling out a white handkerchief from his back pocket and began to wipe the sweat from  his forehead.

 

Despite the weather in the Russian mountains being chilly, North felt it was too hot for the conditions he was working under. Before he began chopping trees, he had taken off his coat and his heavy undershirt. And it was still too warm for him.

 

Placing the cloth back into his pocket and grabbing the ax again, he began to work again. Chopping the newly fallen tree under the dipping sun, his mind focus on task at hand.

 

“Брат, ты закончил день. Входите внутрь и ешьте что-нибудь!”*

 

North turn to the shrill voice of a woman and gave a small chuckle. He watch as a small elder woman storm forward towards him, her brown woolen skirt billowing with each movement.

 

“Большое спасибо бабушке. Я сделаю это через минуту, чтобы попробовать вашу замечательную кухню!”**

 

The old woman huffed as she went over to the stack of wood already chopped and ready for the fire. She turn around and began to stalk back to the hidden cottage.

 

North set the ax down when he jump at her yelling at him.

 

“И надень рубашку! В эту погоду ты поймаешь свою смерть!” *******

 

The burly man gave a loud laugh but obey the suggestion. He respected the old crone even though she made him feel like a foolish beast of burden sometimes. Once his fur coat was back on, he gathered the rest of the chopped wood and followed her footsteps.

 

Ten minutes later and he was sitting in front of her fireplace, warming his hands. He didn’t realize it outside but he was indeed cold from the work and the atmosphere and the last thing he needed was to get exhausted from being ill right before the Christmas rush time.

 

A withered hand was placed on his shoulder and he looked up to see the other handing him a small bowl of sweet smelling liquid. He recognise the scent of _Nyponsoppa_ or the Rosehip soup.

 

“Been to Sweden recently Baba?”

 

The old woman huffed again. “Believe it or not, I do not just stay in my hut for the duration of my existence.” She poke her finger into his side. “Not everyone can travel the world in one night Nicholas St. North.”

 

Said man gave a small chuckle as he took a sip from the cream color bowl.

 

Nicholas considered visiting Baba Yaga enlightening at times- almost a vacation. Granted he was working off a debt for her and she would spend the next three days finding fault in whatever task he did. However, he found out that she had begun to grow on him.

 

“Tell me your thoughts, отродье. ”  
  
North looked up from the flames to stare into muddy eyes of Baba. She had taken a seat on the bench next to him and had her hands clasped around the crooked wooden cane she usually carried around. She wasn’t looking at him but instead into the fire. He followed her gaze as he replied, “If you’re asking what is wrong, then I have no answer.”

 

It was silent for a moment before she huffed again.

 

“I know you Nicholas St. North,” she said. The old woman stuck her bony finger into his face. “Your gleam is missing,” she said. “No matter where you go and what situation you are in, your eyes would shine with wonder and pride.” She turned her focus back to the fire as she allowed her hand to clasp the cane again. “It's sickening most of the time,” she muttered.

 

North gave another small chuckle but kept looking into the fire.

 

“I have been having… dreams.”

 

“Dreams,” Baba parroted back.

 

“Yes, dreams.” He then shook his head. “No, visions if I am to be honest.”

 

The old woman raise an eyebrow. “Are you becoming a dreamwalker, North,” she teased. “You don’t have that talent for it.”

 

The Guardian frowned but knew she was right. It was rigorous training and one must have a focus mind and the ability to stay on task. With North’s mindset, his thoughts were always changing every few minutes.

 

“No, although I fear that wouldn’t help me…”

 

Baba nodded and sniffed. “Tell me about them…”

 

North open and close his mouth several times before he finally spoke. “It has been the same dream, for last several decades,” he started. “Someone in the dark, crying for help. They are always sobbing and pleading.” He had place the bowl down and was holding his hands together. “At first I thought it was a child and then later Jack Frost because of….”

 

Baba nodded, understand the youngest Guardian’s earlier predicament.

 

“But after Jack became a Guardian, the dreams…. they have gotten worse. I… I keep seeing a figure in the distance. I can’t tell who it is but they are in pain. I run towards them, wanting to help but every time I get close….”

 

He sucked air into his chest and his hands turn to fist as tears of frustration began to leak from his eyes.  
  
“Hands, clawed hands come out of nowhere and rip the person apart. All I’m left is a heart, a heart that is cold to the touch and slowly dying.”

 

North began to rub his hands together, whether to warm them or because of a nervous habit was not known.

 

“I then look up to see the same hands piecing the body back together, using gold and black thread. The figure looks horrific, horrible….”

 

“You do not know who it is?”

 

North shook his head. “I think… in my dreams I recognize them but when I awake, no memory…”

 

Baba nodded, clutching her cane tightly. “What will do?”

 

“I don’t know where to start,” the Guardian said. “I’m…. I’m lost…”

 

They once again sat in silence, looking into the flames.

 

“North, why did you never take the title of sorcerer?”

 

Said Guardian turned to look at Baba. “What do you mean?”

 

“I mean you are talented. You should be able to look into this with open eyes and yet you only have the title of magician. Why have you not taken the sorcerer’s title?”

 

North looked away, frowning. “I don’t want to answer that…. Not now.”

 

“Is it because you are afraid? Because of your suppose failures, your allegiance to the Man in the Moon?”

 

North shook his head again and grabbed the fire poker, stabbing the hot coals as he tried to gather his thoughts.

 

“You know what it will mean for me take such a title,” he said.

 

“And is that such a terrible thing,” she questioned.

 

North kept silent, continue poking the fire. “I can’t,” he said. “I’m not… I’m not ready…”

 

Baba huffed once more and smacked North’s arm. “You say you are not ready, but forces outside your control will push you towards this.”

 

The Guardian frowned as he set the poker down. “I’m tired of being push into something I don’t want to be-”

 

“And you think sitting around making toys for children is what you meant for,” Baba replied back. “You have so much potential to become more; to grow! When will finally accept you could be more and actually take magic seriously?”

 

North stood up suddenly. “I take it seriously, but I do not want to be force into something I am not!!”

 

He grabbed his coat and began storming out towards the door.

 

“Where are you going,” she called out.

 

“You need more firewood and I am tired of speaking….”

 

He wrench the door open and slammed it shut behind him.

 

Baba sat staring into the fire, twirling the flames with her wooden cane.

 

“You might not have a choice,” she muttered, “for there are forces at work here. There can only be one, North and time has called you to take that place….”

 

* * *

  **Nicholas St. North’s Workshop**

* * *

  
****

Phil stared at the man sitting on the floor again, cradling the cat in his arms. Jack had left to grab their guest something to eat, realizing that the genie might be famish.

 

The Yeti frowned. They remember Pitch Black, how powerful he had became during the Dark Ages. They never said it, but Phil remember the Guardians treating Pitch as a threat and an enemy which put the Yetis themselves on alert.

 

Pitch Black was a formidable opponent, someone that the Guardians had struggle to defeat during the Dark Ages.

 

Now….

 

Phil smell a broken creature, submission at its finest.

 

Pitch’s body had been broken and abused, the scent of other’s mixed into the shade’s smoky fragrance.

 

There was something else in the mixed, also. Something magical. However while they may work around the enchanted workshop, the Yetis were not skilled in such talent. However Phil could smell something off on Pitch Black.

 

The Yeti muttered to his brother’s, pointing at the shade and making his own observations. A nod or two was given before they scattered from the room.

 

They would wait for North for the final decision.

 

Until then they would keep an eye on the shade.

 

Maybe even help him…

 

* * *

 

Jack came back with a sandwich and a glass of milk for their guest when he spied Johann, one of the toy painters, walking towards him.  
  
“Johann, you wouldn’t happen to know how to get in contact with North,” he asked. Even though he felt a bit braver being around his guest, he rather have the Guardian’s help.

 

The Yeti shook his head, knowing that when North left for his ‘outings’, he was unreachable by any means. He would disappear for more than 3 days when this happened.

 

Jack sighed before realizing something. “Wait, what about Sandy, Tooth and Bunny? Can we reach them?”

 

Johann tapped his chin with a clawed finger before giving a gasp of realization.

 

Technically, the yetis were allowed to use the Guardian Signal when it was an emergency. North never said anything about using it during his outings but Johann believed this would be a good time for the Auruo Borleias.

 

“I’ll keep Pitch busy. Hopefully I can get him to eat and maybe talk some more,” Jack said.

Johann nodded and rushed pass the Guardian to talk to Phil.

 

The winter sprite continued his way to the room with small lunch hoping that things would change for the better.

 

* * *

  **England**

* * *

 

Damien stared out the window of the small loft he was currently staying in, watching as people walked down the streets, meaningless.

 

It disgusted him.

 

He gripped his cane again as he sighed, thinking about how the day went. Every Time he thought he was so close, he was sent on another goose chase for his ring.

 

**_To be fair the fault was his._ **

 

He was cocky in his youth, secure in his craft. He was bragging and throwing his work around, making a profit. But his ring… his precious ring; that was his greatest triumph. Not because of the physical aspect of it.

 

_No…._

 

Because of **_him_ **.

 

Damien looked to his right to see the thin golden belt sitting on the table. Raising an eyebrow, he reached over and grabbed the object.

 

It belonged to his special genie when he was first captured. He first kept it as a trophy before gifting his precious as a reward.

 

_Now it's all that he had left of him._

 

Damien closed his eyes as he allowed the cool metal touch his cheeks. If he focused hard enough, he could smell his precious’ smoky scent. A shiver ran through body as heat pooled in the core of his body.

 

He remembered his precious’ lithe body, the unmarked skin just waiting to take his mark. And he did.

 

He remembered tattooing his design into the base of his precious’ neck, and later that night decorating his skin with his teeth and fingernails. His precious was a drug and he was the only user.

 

Damien’s hand clenched tighter around the belt as his breathing came out harsher and his other hand dipped into his pants.

 

Memories flowed into his mind as he began to stroke.

 

_“You’re so perfect, my precious…”_

 

_He watched as the figure above continue to ride his cock, tiny sounds of pleasure leaving from the above shade’s lips. Hands were on Damien’s chest, helping him rise up and down; the heat of his pet’s insides bringing the sorcerer closer to completion._

 

_“M..Master, please…”_

 

_Damien sat up, rearranging the shade in his lap before making the other continued to bounce on his cock._

 

_“Is this what you want? Is this what you need to please your Master,” he asked, staring down into dull eclipsed eyes._

 

_His precious couldn’t answer, saliva trailing from his mouth as his Master continued hitting deeper inside him._

 

_Damien smirked, knowing how to take apart his pet and put him back together again. He leaned down and sank his teeth deep into the other’s neck. He thrust his hips harder and faster, wrapping his hands around the other’s waist. He soon began bringing the body up and down on his own, relishing the intense pleasure and the sounds his precious made._

 

_He felt something wet splatter his abs and chest as the tight heat clench around his cock._

 

“Master?”

 

Damien’s eyes widen and quickly his demeanor changed. He removed his hand and slashed the air, causing his minion to slam into the wall.

 

“What...is it,” he growled. He stood and began to fixed his outfit, dropping the belt back on the table. “Have you found the auctioneer?”

 

His minion stood up, rubbing his back. “N-No Master,” he said. “He was gone for the day and we were unable to discover where he dwells at.” Sensing Damien’s ire rise, he quickly inputted, “But my sister is watching the museum for when he is to return. She will contact me when he comes.”

 

The sorcerer hummed as he reached for his cane. “Good,” he snapped. “Now leave me.”

 

The minion nodded and quickly vacate the room.

 

Damien sighed as he looked out the window. The moon was full tonight and as much as he wanted to visit old memories, he had things to do. He picked up the belt once again and kiss the metal.

 

**_Soon precious, you will be back where you belong- by my side._ **

 

* * *

**Nicholas St. North’s Workshop**

* * *

 

It took several minutes for Jack to finally trick Pitch into eating. Even though it would have been easy, he didn’t want to force Pitch into doing something so normal. He figured until either the Guardians or North come to the place, no more wishes would be allowed. He had kept the ring on his finger vowing not to lose the item.

 

Pitch ate everything on his plate and drank the glass of milk before retreating into his quiet stance, petting his cat. Jack nodded at the yeti that took the plate before turning his attention back to his guest.

 

“Does your cat have a name?”

 

Pitch blinked and looked up. “Master?”

 

“Your cat,” Jack asked. “What is his, or her’s, name?”  
  
Pitch looked down at the animal in his arms. “I think… I remember….” He was quiet for a second before looking up. “Oliver. I think his name is Oliver, Master….”

 

Jack nodded. “That is a nice name,” he replied. “How old is he?”

 

Pitch shrugged. “I don’t know Master. I think… I had him for a long time and I don’t know who gave him to me. He was just… there.”

 

He continue petting Oliver as if lost in his thoughts.

 

“Do you remember any of your other Masters,” Jack asked, curious about the genie’s former life.

 

The man paused, blinking. “I...I don’t…. I don’t know Master. I remember the last one, somewhat but his face… I don’t remember him.”

 

Jack’s eyes widen, feeling a familiar pain in his chest. “Do you remember if you had a life before meeting your Masters?”

 

A dull look appeared into his eye. “No...nothing. Darkness,” came the monotone voice.  “I… I.. there was a promise and I ….” Tears began to leak from his eclipsed orb as sobs can erupted from his chest. Oliver perked up at his owner’s cries and place his paws on Pitch’s chest.

 

Jack winced and rush over to the genie. “No, no, no,” he said quickly. He sat on the floor, crossing his legs and placed his hands on Pitch’s shoulder.  “Please don't cry,” he said.

 

“But I’m a bad genie,” he sobbed. “Its why I have so many Masters. It has to be. I remember someone telling me if I was a good spirit, he would never rid of me. But he has,” Pitch cried again. “He has and that means I’m a bad servant.”

 

Jack tried to think of something to calm the other down but he could admit he was out of his element here.

 

“And I can’t even help you Master. You only have wish for one thing and it was something that benefit me.” He place his face into his hands. “I’m a selfish genie….”

 

Jack grabbed Pitch’s wrist, removing them from the other’s face. “You’re not a bad servant,” he said slowly. He was trying to figure out the words to say. “You have been...helpful. Courteous. I don’t think that’s selfish. Forget your other Masters, Pitch.”

 

The genie blinked away the tears as Jack released his arms. Oliver crawled from Pitch’s lap to Jack’s trying to gain both spirits’ attention.

 

The winter Guardian continued. “You’re here with us now. We’re not going to hurt you or treat you badly- even if you do become selfish.” He cupped the genie’s chin. “We’re the Guardians. We don’t only protect the children; we’ll protect lost spirits and silly genies also,” he teased.

 

The shade sniffed as he copied the small smile the other gave him. “I… Thank you Master…”

 

Jack gave a laugh. “Just call me Jack,” he said. “You don’t have to call me Master…”

 

He reached over and held his hand out. “Let’s try this again. Hi, I’m Jack Frost, your friendly neighborhood Guardian of Fun and Prankster.”

 

Pitch tilted his head a bit confused but he timidly brought his hand up. “I am Pitch Black, genie of your ring,” he copied as he allowed Jack to pump his hand several times.

 

Oliver meowed, gaining the two spirit’s attentions and Jack gave a laugh as he pulled away only to pick up the cat. “Hello Oliver. It’s nice to meet you,” he said.

 

Pitch gave a small chuckle as the winter sprite held the paw out to Pitch.

 

It was a peaceful moment, one that define Jack’s relationship with the confused yet silent spirit of the ring. The Guardian of Fun vowed to protect Pitch until they could figure out how to free him.

 

It was indeed the calm before the storm.

 

**_“WHAT THE BLOODY HELL IS PITCH BLACK DOING HERE?!!”_ **

 

**_~End Chapter~_ **

 

**Ooooh shit is about to hit the fan!!!**

**I think my favorite scene for now is the interaction between Baba and North. Note: Sometimes they will slip into their native language when emotions are involved or when in a comfortable setting.**

**Translations:**

***"Brat, you finished the day. Come inside and eat something!"**   
****"Many thanks, grandmother. I'll be done in a moment to try your wonderful cooking! "**   
*****"And put your shirt on! You'll catch your death out in this weather!"**

 

 

**Oops and here is the link for Pitch's outfit and as a bonus Oliver the Cat:**

**[x](https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/10-rzqnwQJh1EJpLlvNVXHBGJugo20CKb?usp=sharing) **


End file.
